foraging up the Yarkhun valley, and had been sent after us by Moberly.
Our road led along the valley through cornfields and orchards, which, in
spite of the rain, looked very pretty and green. The trees were just in
their first foliage and the corn about a foot high, while all the peach
and apricot trees were covered with bloom. We did not see a soul on our
march, but the officer in charge of the rear-guard reported that as
soon as we left Killa Drasan, the villagers came hurrying down the hill
in crowds.

At one place we had a short halt on account of a battery pony, which was
amusing itself by rolling down a slope with a gun on its back; it was
brought back nothing the worse for its escapade, and we resumed our
march.

Before getting into camp, our road led up from the lower valley on to
some gentle, undulating spurs of the main range of hills; here there was
a cluster of villages, and every available spot was cultivated.

On one of these spurs we camped, where three small villages or clusters
of houses formed a triangle, the centre of which was a cornfield. This
formed an excellent halting-place, as the men were billeted in the
houses, each giving the other mutual protection. We formed our mess in
part of the rooms of the headman's house, one Russool of Khusht; he was
foster-father to the late Nizam-ul-mulk, but had acknowledged the
opposition and joined Sher Afzul. (In the photograph he is sitting half
hidden behind the Mehter's left arm, with his head rather raised.)

As we had been great friends during my first visit to Chitral,--(he was
awfully fond of whisky),--I've no doubt he was pleased to hear I had
been his guest in his own house, but I never had an opportunity to